The mother of all punctures - on my London bike commute

Can you see the screw sticking right into my tyre, like someone hammered it in? Well, I got that just as I was cycling along the bike lane off Tavistock Square. Clang clang clang, thought something had got caught in my wheel. One very long screw.  Here it is again.

I wrestled with the puncture for half an hour, putting patches on the inner tube, but failed as it had been shredded. I wanted to change the inner tube but didn't have a spanner which would have loosened the wheel. So, KarmaCycle, would you believe it, admitted defeat and got in a taxi with LCM (London Commuting Machine i.e. my bike) and headed home, tail between my legs. On the plus side, I had a super-nice taxi driver and together we sorted out London's transport problems. Here's another rather blurry view after I'd pulled the screw out a bit:

Has anyone else had a punture like that, where the screw/nail just plunges straight in? Was it left in the bike lane sticking up? Did it fall at a freak angle poking upwards? Did someone come and hammer it in while I was stopped at the lights for a second? I need a forensic puncturologist.

Would you stop to help someone whose bike has a puncture? A London bicycling insight ...

I'm back. Forgive the blog silence but I've spent the last few weeks looking after my lovely kids rather than scything my way through London's mean streets. And for the record, it was a superb time though I am now far more tired than I've been in years and I've got a terrible cold I can't shake off. I never normally get them. Is there a connection between cycling inactivity and sickness? Yes.

Blob of jelly

Anyway, I was determined to get back on the LCM (London Commuting Machine for those new to the blog) this morning. The three weeks of inactivity certainly took their toll. I was like a blob of jelly on a bike and found it quite difficult to steer properly. I was (yet again) wearing too many clothes and started boiling pretty quickly. I found myself not really being bothered about overtaking anyone (normally I'm tediously but secretly competitive), and this pretty much applied to pedestrians.

The puncture moment

To add to the general indignity, after only 5 minutes or so along the canal, I felt the familiar sensation of the front wheel becoming unresponsive when steering and a quick look down revealed just what I suspected - the tyre was flat.

Always carry one of these!

I parked up on the grass beside the canal and started fixing it, pleased that at least I'd got the right tools. As I worked, I realised that I was feeling pretty relaxed, not caring much about how quickly I did it. And I started wondering, casually, if any other cyclists would stop to ask if I was OK or if I needed a hand.

The kind Brompton man

I would add that I probably looked at least half confident in what I was doing, so there was probably no need. But towards the end, a lovely guy on a Brompton slowed down and asked very nicely if I had everything - I told him I was fine, but thanks - and he cycled off. It made me feel great and brought a smile to my face. Then I realised I was being eaten alive by some really horrid bugs - possibly mosquitoes - and rushed to get through the job and the hell out of there. Guess that slow moving canal water, grassy verges and a sweating cyclist mean paradise for blood-sucking creatures.

Anyway - thought du jour, as they say - is this: even if someone looks like they know what they're doing, it can make all the difference to stop and ask if someone's OK if they're by the road or river with the old bike upside down. Spread that karma now, you know it makes sense.